Gypsy
by drama-princess
Summary: After some friendly persuasion, Giles (reluctantly) puts himself in Jenny's hands for their third date. The Scoobies, of course, aren't helping matters much on their end.


**Gypsy  
  
**_by drama-princess  
  
_A/N: I'm fairly new to the Buffy scene, and most fond of (read: obsessive) Jenny and Giles together. And since there really is an appalling lack of quality fluff out there, I felt compelled to add to the pile of fanfic. This particular piece was inspired by Fleetwood Mac's This little piece is dedicated to my fellow obsessive, Miss Nita. (She's a Star) Because. . . well. She's brilliant and was my introduction to G/J.   
  
This is set somewhere in between Lie to Me and The Dark Ages.   
  
*  
  
_So I'm back, to the velvet underground  
Back to the floor, that I love  
To a room with some lace and paper flowers  
Back to the gypsy  
That I was  
To the gypsy. . .  
That I was_  
  
~Fleetwood Mac,   
  
*  
  
Come _on, _Rupert, Jenny Calendar wheedled, leaning forward and pressing her stomach into the library table. It'll be fun. Rupert snorted faintly at that and turned the page of Shakespeare: Invention of the Human.' Jenny hid a grin and ran her fingers up his cuff. Don't you trust me?   
  
Frankly, Jenny. . . He paused and took off his glasses, his other hand already reaching for the handkerchief in his pocket.   
  
She could have sworn there was a faint sparkle in his eyes before he put his glasses back on. She wrinkled her nose at him and collapsed dramatically into the chair next to Rupert's. It'll be tamer than monster trucks, she said teasingly. Oh, come on, you fight vampires all the time, you're afraid to trust your girlfriend for just one teensy, harmless little date?  
  
Well, vampires don't exactly produce the noise and mess that. . . he drifted off as he realized what she was saying and finally looked up from the book to study her intently. Jenny felt her face flush in spite of itself. Did you, uh. . . did you just say girlfriend?  
  
Jenny smiled softly and reached over to take Rupert's hand. You noticed that, huh?   
  
I, uh. . . I . . .  
  
But you are free Friday night? she said briskly, squeezing his hand and watching with no inconsiderable satisfaction as Rupert lost any attempt at winning the battle.   
  
Well, yes, I suppose, but Jenny--  
  
Jenny said brightly, pushing back the chair and releasing Rupert's hand. I'll pick you up at eight. Wear something. . . not tweed. A suit, though. She paused and looked doubtfully down at him. You _do _know they make suits out of material other than tweed?  
  
Be off with you, Rupert said reprovingly, shooing her towards the door. It would have been a lot more effective had he not been wearing a rather stupid little grin at the time. Very well, I will concede to your plan. Smiling in a rather lunatic fashion, she bent and kissed his cheek. However reluctantly, he added, still wearing the ridiculously happy little grin. Jenny felt her stomach jump. No one had the right to be that adorable and be over forty. It just wasn't done.   
  
she said as the library door swung open and a sleepy-looking Willow entered. I'll see you at lunch, then, Rupert.   
  
At-- at lunch? I--  
  
Thought we'd brown bag it, Jenny said with a wicked grin as she headed out the door.   
  
With a slight sigh, Giles settled back down to his book. Hello, Willow, he said as the teenager threw herself down onto the leather armchair. Rough night?   
  
Willow buried her face in the chair.   
  
Ah, well, Giles slid his glasses back from the end of his nose. I'm glad to hear it.   
  
Ymph too chrf in mrngs. Willow summoned a half-hearted glare and directed it at him. Giles only smiled dryly.   
  
Unlike other people in this room, I was not up until all hours of the night watching-- what did Buffy call them-- flick chicks.  
  
Chk fks.  
  
Yes, precisely.  
  
S'okay fur you to be hppy. Mizz Celdner thnks you're adoble.  
  
Repetez, seel voo plaite? A horrific attempt at a French accent broke into the conversation just as Giles was busy gaping at Willow. Hey, Will, that sounded like Ms. C. is thinking the G-man's a cutie pie?  
  
Hello, Xander, Giles said wryly as the interrupter strode into the library. Sighing, he made certain to shut his mouth before Xander could see it. So glad to see that you've recovered from your near-fatal attack.  
  
Xander blinked at him in the rapidly brightening sunlight. What near-fatal attack?  
  
Oh, that's right, Giles murmured to himself. I haven't killed you _yet.  
  
_Ha ha, very funny. But I'll have you know I'm--  
  
Really, really overdosed on caffeine? Buffy suggested, entering with a giant latte and a rather glazed grin. Hey, Will, you've got to try this.  
  
No, thanks, Willow said seriously as Buffy stumbled into the room and waved a straw triumphantly at Xander. You know I don't handle caffeine well. The thought of drugs frightens me. Buffy just giggled and sat in an inelegant sprawl across the steps.   
  
Buffy, don't you think you ought to reconsider a few of your extracurricular activities? Giles began, feeling keeping the Slayer from losing her life over Heath Ledger was probably part of the Watcher's (revised) list of duties.   
  
Freddie Prinze Junior, Buffy continued, running a hand through her disheveled hair and looking steadily at Giles. Is definitely boyfriendly.   
  
Giles said. He cast Xander a puzzled look.   
  
Definitely do not ask, Xander said, hauling Willow to her feet and tossing Giles a mock salute. Come, oh Great Caffeine Free Goddess. We must find you natural stimulants.   
  
That'll speed my heart rate up, Willow said dreamily as she started playing with her hair.  
  
Yeah, I guessed that, Xander said dryly. Come on, Will. Leave the nice smitten people to obsess by themselves. The rest of us will just go conquer the world.   
  
Yes, well, do try and remember to discover the periodical section before then, Giles threw in, and then stood with a sigh. Why don't you, er, give me that, Buffy, and then follow your. . illustrious companions to class.   
  
Buffy said sulkily, clutching her latte close as she stood, tottering on her heels.   
  
Giles said, flicking his fingers out in a hand it over gesture. Don't resort to artificial ways of--   
  
I bet Ms. Calendar thinks you're boyfriendly, Buffy said, and then scurried out, still cradling the drink her close to her as the door shut.   
  
_To be continued! _  
  
_  
  
_


End file.
